


Lightning Catcher

by Skyforged (Travelilah)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Bucky Barnes Feels, F/M, Familiars, Magic, Pining, Soul Bond, Wintershock that is shocking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-08-27 02:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16693528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travelilah/pseuds/Skyforged
Summary: It's a little-known fact that Bucky Barnes is descended from an ancient family of witches. There is more magic in his blood than actual oxygen and he hates it. His whole life he's tried to distance himself from the shenanigans and occult going on's of his family. Fate had other plans ,though, throwing him into even weirder things like his best friend turning into Captain America or becoming a murder puppet for HYDRA for over seventy years. In all his years though, he's never felt alone. Like there is someone there, always watching. He wants to put it down to paranoia, but it can't be a coincidence that a cat is always one step behind him, no matter where he goes.Wintershock End Game :)





	1. Souls

**Author's Note:**

> Um. This happened?  
> UN'beta'd and a way for my mind to take a break from NANOWRIMO project.  
> Let me know what you think?  
> Inspired by Supernatural, The Covenant and Sabrina :)

  
[](https://imgur.com/L0PzyEJ)

He was born on a stormy night, at the stroke of midnight.

Brought into the world with screams pain and rivers of blood. _She_ was born mere seconds later. _She_ was healthy, strong where he was weak and feeble.

The nursemaid and his mother could feel that his life was fading, that he would not survive more than a few hours in the cruel world he had been brought into.

Knowing this, Winifred Barnes reached out with her powers, seeking for another soul to save her son’s.

She was fading herself; the strain of labour having drained her. But then Winnifred found _her_. The bright soul that matched her sons. Only it was bright and full of life, teaming with potential and possibility.

Drawing upon what little strength she had left she tied the two souls together. Binding the bright golden light of hers with her son’s dimmer soul, and unequivocally joined them together. For as long as she drew breath her son would live and vice versa.

The joining though, it was so intricate and taxing; draining what little vitality she had left.

Drawing in a long shaky breath, she managed to gasp out, “James,” before life fled her body.

As her life faded, James’ life blossomed, dancing with power, that shone brightly from the depths of his soul.

Realising what her mistress had done, the nursemaid, reached out and pried the eerily quiet babe from his mother’s chest and went in search of the being that would share in the life of the child.

The soul string lead her to a small cupboard in the kitchen.

Slowly opening the wooden door, she was taken aback by what she found.

A cat with a litter of kittens seven or so kittens, suckling at her teats. But there was only one that the string led to, the largest of the litter.

A molten colour of brown and grey. Seeming to sense the presence of one another James started to coo and make sounds and the kitten feebly started to wander forward, seeking out the Bonded.

The nursemaid gently shut and door and let herself fall back to the floor. She sat there, stunned at what her mistress had been able to accomplish.

A _familiar_ , for her child. A guardian to protect them throughout their magical life and into the next realm. But also a curse, another being's welfare to be his responsibility. If the kitten died, so did he. 

“Oh darling, James,” she whispered into the baby's wispy strands of dark hair, “What has she done?”


	2. Meow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got bit by the writing bug tonight @_@

After his mother’s death and the nursemaid was fired for sleeping with the cook, there was not another soul alive that knew what his mother had done. That knew of the Bonding and that James had a familiar. 

 

Unaware of this, James grew up having a normal childhood. 

 

Well, as normal as you can get for being surrounded by magic. For James, it was nothing unusual to see spell books flying off the shelf, to have flowers blooming out of season or to see a broom cleaning all by itself. 

 

His earliest memory he had of magic was from when he was seven years old. A mere lad, untrained and unknowing and an impatient little shit, if he said so himself. 

 

He'd been waiting for his sister. He'd just shouted he was about to leave and he had fully intended to wall out the front door without her, but his promise bound him to wait. 

 

“Hey! Wait up,” shouted Rebecca, from up the stairs. 

 

James rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to go out and play  _ now. _ But no, Miss Guthrie said that he had to look after his sister today or there would be no sweets after dinner for him. And he’d given an oath, a magical one, so that also left him with no other choice.

 

Huffing and crossing his arms over his chest, he puffed his cheeks out in annoyance, as he dutifully waited. It was forever before Becca finally came down the stairs, in a frilly dress and shiny black shoes that she was only supposed to wear to church on Sundays.

 

He scowled at his sister. “Why are ya’ dressed up like that for?”

 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “‘Cause I can.”

 

James rolled his eyes. “Yeah right, you just want Steve to think that you’re pretty,” he teased, making kissy faces at her. 

 

Becca’s face went bright red. “I don’t like Steve, he’s gross,” she shrieked before she stamped her foot. As soon as the shiny black shoe touched down on the floorboard, James felt the air ripple and waver, as a tremor ran throughout the house.

 

An Earthquake. Becca had done that. He looked down at her shoe and then back to her wide brown eyes. Both children froze in place until the tremor went away. 

 

Becca had gone paler than a bottle of milk and James’ face which had been full of worry transformed into a look of pure glee. “Ooo, you’re done it now, Becca!”

 

His sister looked ready to hurl a hex at his head, but she was cut off. “Children!” a loud baritone shouted from down the hall followed by the heavy and distinctive and the result of the youngest child’s temper display. 

 

Both siblings looked at each other, and in unspoken conversation, both bolted for the front door, keen to outrun their father and any punishment he may have in store for them losing control of their magic or provoking each other. 

 

Because magic for the young was dangerous. Something to do with children not having the ability to control harness the wild energies that made up the power. Without discipline and instruction they could tear themselves apart, but also others around them. 

 

Their father had no tolerance for these accidents. No, George Barnes was a man that loved the rules and he expected his children to follow in his footsteps. 

 

The only other thing that James remembers from that day is coming home and being on the receiving end of this father’s belt. 

 

He’d step up to take the blame, after all, he was the problem child, the one going behind his father’s back and experimenting with his powers. 

 

Once George was finished, James had fled out to the woodshed. Huddling down amongst the bits of wood, not caring if he got splinters. The pain in his back nothing in comparison. He was trying to stifle his sobs, in case somebody heard him, but being so young, he had yet to learn the control over his emotions that was expected for a Warlock. 

 

Sniffling and feeling weaker than ever, James hid his face into his knees and tried to ignore the sting of his back, the skin pulling as he hunched forward. “Hate him,” he muttered to himself. “Wish I was strong enough to fight back.”

 

He was shocked at the small  _ meow _ that came after his whispered confessions. Raising his head and squinting his eyes, trying to focus his vision through the haze of tears he was able to see a cat. Staring at him intently with icy blue eyes, almost like they were judging him.

Not wanting to deal with anything paranormal or weird at that moment, he half sobbed and half mumbled,  “Go away," before tucking his head back into his arms. 

 

What he wasn’t expecting was a reply. " _No_." 

 

 


	3. Familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for today - other things to work on and all.

James' head came up in a flash. His eyes wide as he studied the molten-coloured cat, trying to figure out if his magic was playing tricks again or if the cat really--

“Yes, I spoke,” came a young female from inside his head.

“But you...You..” he stammered out, eyes feeling like they were about to fall out of their sockets.

“Yes?” 

He shook his head. “No, you can't talk! You're a cat and cats can't talk!” he exclaimed, pushing himself as far away from the small feline as possible. 

When his back met the wall of the shed, unable to retreat any further, the cat prowled forward with unnatural grace, eyes fixed unblinkingly upon James. As she, he assumed it was a she from her voice, she spoke to him again, “Yes, I am a cat and no you're not crazy.” She stopped and sat down in front of him, her tail twitching as she looked at him for a few seconds before she twitched her nose. “I can smell blood.”

James winced at the mention of his back. He’d bled pretty badly this time and it was probably going to take a couple of Nana Barnes’ poultices and salves just to get it mended up and back to normal.

“Yeah, my Pa, he um…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit what had happened to himself, let alone to a talking cat. “Doesn’t matter, cause you can’t be talking for real anyway.”

The cat snorted. “You live in a house of magic and think that a talking cat is beyond possible?”

James’ prickled at the insult and tried to straighten himself, but regretted it as soon as he felt his back twinge again.”Ngh,” he moaned, shrinking in on himself. Squeezing his eyes shut and taking in big mouthfuls of air. 

He wouldn’t cry again. He was a strong and a boy. Crying was for girls. 

“Oh you poor thing,” he heard the cat murmur before he dared to open his eyes.

For a brief moment, all he saw was an almost sad look upon the cat’s face before her whiskers quivered before she darted forward and jumped. 

James flinched, waiting for the claws to come out and for the pain of a scratch to come, but it never did. Instead, there was a soft weigh and pressure, upon his shoulders. 

Looking down at his shoulder he saw a small grubby hand, with pristine and kind of pointed nails. The skin beneath the grime was pale and attached to a slender arm that ran up and was attached to a brunette girl that was around his age. 

He held his breath as he tried to figure out what had just happened. Cat had jumped, a girl now standing in place. It didn’t make any sense, even for his magical life. Seeming to sense his confusion the girl gave him a soft smile before tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Off,” she said, this time out loud, her voice sounding softer than before. 

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

She tugged harder. “Come on, off.”

“Why?” he asked again, trying to wiggle out of her grip.

“Because I can heal you.”

His eyebrows shot up. "How?"

She seemed to sigh, or maybe it was a hiss, he wasn't sure, but she looked him dead in the eye and said, "Because I'm you're familiar."


	4. Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching Charmed - to blame for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.   
> Hope y'all like.

 

“You can what?” he gasped. The girl rolled her greenish yellow eyes at Bucky, who noticed with the action that her pupils were slitted and narrow, like a cat’s. 

 

“Your eyes,” he breathed, his own steel blue set bugging out as he became entranced. 

 

His staring was interrupted the muttered, “Ugh, are all humans this dumb?” as she kept trying to tug at his shirt. 

 

Blood started to rush to his cheeks, which he’d puffed up in embarrassment. “I’m not dumb,” he shouted.

 

The girl recoiled, jumping back and lowered herself into a defensive stance, that bat…”Are you hissing at me?”

 

“Yes, you dummy,” she scolded rising up from her crouched stance and marched back up to him. “It’s rude to stare at a familiar, let alone shout. We’ve got sensitive ears you know.” She rubbed at the side of her head, where he imagined normal human ears to be, instead, he saw furry little tips that had been the same colour as her coat. 

 

Not noticing that he was staring again, the girl kept going: “Now stop being an idiot, and let me damned well heal you, alright?” She tugged at his shirt once more. 

 

Bucky heard the last of her words and his mouth formed an ‘o’ at her language. Using his shock to her advantage she ripped the shirt at the seams and pulled it away, finally exposing his back and all the wounds to the world.

 

Feeling the air brush against his back, Bucky shuddered and tried to shift away from the girl. Shame welling up in him for his weakness been exposed but someone also seeing what his father had done. 

 

“Stop moving,” she growled, grabbing his shoulder to pull him closer. “I am trying to heal you. Almost like you want to be in pain. Is that it, huh?”

 

Bucky scowled. “No. I just don’t think it’s right for me to be half naked in front of a lady.” 

 

The girl snorted. “Good thing I ain’t no lady.” She gently peeled away the bits of shirt that had become stuck to his back, glued on by blood and plasma that had been oozing from the wounds. 

 

“Your father is a bad man,” she hissed, darkly. Her eyes flicked up to meet his gaze and he flinched when he saw her green eyes had changed to a icy blue. He shivered, this time from a cold sensation that crept up his spine, almost like snow getting in his pants, except way worse. 

 

He darted his gaze to the ground. “No, he’s not,” he protested weakly.

 

He heard the girl sigh, before, “Whatever you say, kid. Now this is going to sting for a second--”

 

He craned his neck to try and see what she was doing. “What do you mean it will--ow, hey!” He tried to pull away but her grip was too strong. How could some so small have so much strength? 

 

“Stop moving!” she warned, before going back to what she was doing. Whatever if was, it bloody hurt. His back was been whipped all over again and as hard as he tried to hold back the cries of pain, they escaped him. Rising up in his throat and leaving his mouth in loud shouts.

 

“There, it's done, for all your crying,” she said, shoving him away, and getting up to stand next to him. “Well, you gonna stay on the floor all day?”

 

He sneered at the girl and started to hop up. Halfway through standing, he expected the movement to bring, but there was nothing. He brought his hand up to caress his back and there was nothing. No scabs, no indents or scaley bits of scars. Just smooth flesh.

 

“How?” he whispered, eyes wide with shock and admiration. He knew there was such a thing in the world as healing magic, but, nothing to this effect. “How did you--” He gestured helplessly at his back, unable to form the words, too in awe of the girl-witch-miracle before him.

 

It was strange. She looked nervous now, she was twisting her hands and biting her lip with a rather large looking canine tooth. She opened to her mouth to speak but was cut off by the door slamming open and George Barnes. 

 

“There you are!I’ve been--- _ you _ !” His eyes locked onto the girl and his whole posture stiffened. Sparks of magic began to surround him and the girl hissed, backing away into the corner. 

 

James lept forward between his father and the girl. “No, Dad. She helped me, she’s a friend--”

 

“She’s a demon!” his father roared, pressing closer, magic tangibly welling up and around them now, in a vortex, the wind shifting with the anger of the man. “Get away from her, boy.”

 

“NO!”


	5. Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bahowle get's credit for inspiring me to write <3 
> 
> He the best that no one ever was. 
> 
> And he got a Caw Caw tattoo, he just the sweetest, bestest friend and alpha reader ever <3
> 
> Unbeta'd - spot any errors - lemme know. :)

“Last warning, James, move, now!” his father bellowed, voice heightened by the magic he channelled. The wind carrying the boom and making it echo off the shuddering wooden panels of the shed.

Bucky knew he was whimpering and that he was scared. Not for himself, though, but for the girl and what his father would do to her. 

The wind stung his eyes and his face. He didn't dare look back for a second. Not even to see if the girl was okay, or what she was doing. He held eye contact with his father, his own slate grey eyes mirrored in the older man. It was terrifying to see such rage. He’d seen his father this angry before, only once, and he still had the scar. 

Pulling his courage together and balling his fists up, Bucky forced the words out, “I won't let you--” the rest of the words died in his throat. His father ripping the air from him. 

He fell to his knees, clasping at his throat and chest, desperately trying to breathe in. All the while, in the background his father had begun to advance on the girl. He could hear a faint hissing, from behind him. 

It turned into a scream. 

The little bit of air he’d managed to suck in, he used, to shout out a hoarse, “Stop!” that was unheard over the angry shrieks of the air. 

He knew it was the girl, the familiar or demon that was crying. 

The wind was now pushing him down. He couldn’t get up. 

But he needed to! 

She’d helped him and he needed to help her. He wanted to. So desperately. He didn’t want to let George Barnes hurt anyone else. 

He was so weak. So young. Feeble. Untrained and unable to overcome his father’s magic, that held him captive. The magic of a mature warlock. 

He screwed his eyes up and tried to focus his hazy thoughts of weaving through the wind. It was so hard though. He pushed and pushed, but nothing was working. 

Until lightning struck. Again and again. 

He didn't stop to think where it'd come from. He only knew two things: 

The crackle hurt his ears, and it'd given him the diversion that he'd needed. 

Peeking his eyes open, and turning around he was able to see the bright bolts reflected in the girl's wide eyes and had blinded his father, forcing him to turn away from the brightness. 

Seizing the chance, Bucky dashed forward and grabbed the girl and tugged her out the door. His little legs pumping as fast as they could, sprinting, away, as far away from his father that he could. 

Static followed him though. And little bolts of lightning struck around him. 

In the back of his mind, he pondered for a few seconds if he was doing it. If so, it wasn’t lightning. It was magic. From him. 

But the roar of his father had all of his attention back on helping the girl escape. 

They didn't make it any further than the boundary of the house. As soon as Bucky'd tried to step a foot over the spell line, he'd been physically restrained. The girl had been able to cross through.

And with his father charging up behind him, ranting and raving, like a madman, they'd shared a look. The girl and him, and she'd mouthed 'thank you' before a bright flash of light and she was a cat again, running away. 

His father stopped a few feet short of him. Huffing and puffing, from running or using so much magic, Bucky wasn't sure. 

He hadn't noticed either yet that arcs of white energy pulsed around him, like a protective cocoon, positioned delicately between his father and him. 

Bucky finally noticed the magic when his father made to take a step closer, and the white magic zapped out, frying the ground near his foot. 

His father glared down at him, and Bucky knew he was in the for the punishment of a lifetime, but he didn't care. 

Magic. He had it. 

More than that. He had lightning.


	6. Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey -waves awkwardly- 
> 
> So, ah, yeah. Another small chapter and I am working on more?
> 
> Next chapter is a turn in POV's. George Barnes will have a chance to speak.
> 
> That should be uploaded later tonight. 
> 
> This is my fun fic, something I write where I am not worried about the writing being perfect or the plot making a hell of a lot of sense. A chance for free expression and to go a little crazy. 
> 
> But if you do have any feedback, please do let me know :)

For the first time in his life, Bucky _could_ defend himself against his father.

And it felt _amazing_. He felt _powerful_. Something he’d never felt before, because his whole life, his father had mocked him for not having powers.

For not being able to do anything beyond casting a few basic hearth spells, or generate some static sparks that would swirl around him like willow wisps that came out at night. Entertaining for children, but shameful for a warlock. He was an insult to the Barnes bloodline.

He was always in need of discipline, to be taught how to be a proper warlock, how to hone his magic and his energy so that he wasn't a waste of space. More than anything, his father was constantly working on trying to remove his mother's weak taint. She'd been weak too, dying during childbirth. Like her, she should have died as well. Gone over the rainbow bridge and joined his ancestors.

But Nana Barnes had always told him that he'd survived for a reason. Whatever that may be, he was here, in the world, and he would make a difference. He'd always loved Nana Barnes, she gave him a place to hide from his father, and she'd make really yummy cookies and also distract Becca if Bucky wanted the chance to escape and go and do some boys only stuff with Steve.

She was gone now. And she wasn't there to protect him anymore. No one was.

It was just him, his magic and his father in the courtyard of the house.

His father unable to take another step closer, the strikes of lightning lashing out whenever he tried.

Bucky's arms were limp at his side and legs starting to shake. His head hurt and his back stuck in phantom sensations, almost in memory of his father's belt, as that's what would be happening after this.

More punishment, for defying his father's orders. But also, for using magic without permission. Something that he'd never done before.

He stood his ground though. Or he planned too.

Again, his father was an experience Warlock, and a seasoned man of magic. He saw that his father's mouth was moved, most likely murmuring an incantation under his breath, something to break down the magical barrier that still separated the two of them.

Bucky could feel himself growing sleepy, his eyelids heavy and a yawn fighting to escape. He fought it off, the effects of the spell, the best that he could. But his father was stronger. And he'd already used so much energy with the lightning.

He had to keep going, he had to keep the magic going.

But a nap sounded so good. He could just close his eyes for a second. If he did, it would help him concentrate on keeping the shield up. If he did, he wouldn't have to see his fathers enraged face staring back at him with the dark promise of pain.

His eyes flickered shut gently, his long lashes tickling his cheeks as he did.

Just a short rest, that’s all he needed.


End file.
